Nothing says “good business trip” like being able to take time during your travels to enjoy some of the local scenery. As my travels take me through Canada, I get to see everything from the modern cities of Toronto and Vancouver to the idyllic scenery of Nova Scotia and Victoria. For a photographer, this type of variety lends itself well to photography, as the subjects are as varied as the Canadian climates in Fall.

This time around, I was headed for Calgary, Alberta. Calgary bills itself as “The Heart Of The New West” and, looking around, it’s easy to see why. A bustling metropolitan area, complete with the world-famous Calgary Stampede rodeo grounds, sits alongside the gateway to the Canadian Rockies, Banff National Park.

I love Banff National Park.

My trip from San Diego began eventfully enough, as my flight out was delayed by an hour. This, of course, all but demanded that I miss my connection in Denver. I should’ve arrived in Calgary at about 8:30pm on Monday. But, after a painfully long wait in the Denver airport (I felt like that Tom Hanks character in “The Terminal”), I was able to score a standby seat on the 9:30pm flight to Calgary. Of course, travel being what it is these days, that flight didn’t depart Denver until almost 1:00am Tuesday morning. When it was all said and done, I arrived in Calgary at about 3:30am on Tuesday. Now, it sure would’ve been nice if those car rental counters were open 24 hours a day, but such is not the case. Instead, I got to wander around an almost deserted Calgary International Airport until Budget Rentals opened at 6:00am.

And, when I say “deserted”, I mean deserted:





I finally got my car and made my way to the Holiday Inn. As I’d been up all night, Tuesday was spent in bed, catching up on sleep a few hours here, a few hours there. I finally turned in for good at about 7:30pm on Tuesday. Such an early bedtime would surely mean an early wake-up on Wednesday, and it did. I awoke at about 3:00am, which was in keeping with my plan. I wanted to leave Calgary by 4:30am, so I could get to Banff, specifically Lake Louise, before the crowds started showing up.

One does not undertake this trip without one, if not two, cups of coffee. The downside of that, as you might imagine, is the inevitable call of Mother Nature. Well, after my second cup, Mother Nature wasn’t calling, she was screaming. Thankfully, about halfway between Calgary and Lake Louise, is a rest stop which I’ve stopped at every time I’ve come through here (this being my third time). It overlooks the Bow River, and offers some wonderful vistas for taking pictures.

It also has one of these:



After a pleasant drive into the mountains, I ended up pulling into the parking lot at the Chateau Fairmount, which sits right alongside the lake, at about 6:30am, camera in-hand.

If you’ve never been to Lake Louise, you need to go before you die. It’s just that simple. I’ve been fortunate to have been all over the world, visiting six continents, and Lake Louise remains, in my opinion, just about the most perfect place on the planet. The lake normally doesn’t thaw until mid-July, which is something I didn’t know the first time I came here, in April of 2006. At that time, there was two feet of snow on the ground, it was snowing, and there were dogsleds.

This time, however, the turquoise waters of the lake reflected the snow-covered peaks overlooking the lake:





When I was here last, the canoe-rental business was having, well, let’s just call it a “lull”. This time of year, though, the business is booming. Canoes rent for $55.00 an hour and, while some early risers head out in the pre-sun morning, all 20 canoes are routinely reserved every hour between 10:00am and 7:00pm.



There are signs everywhere around the lake warning of attempting to interact with the local wildlife. This is, after all, “Grizzly country”. While I didn’t see any bears, there were two member of the wildlife community willing to indulge me.

The first was a Clark’s Nutcracker:



And the second was this way-to-comfortable-around-humans Golden Mantel Ground Squirrel:



After spending a couple of hours at Lake Louise, I decided to drive the 10 kilometers up to Moraine Lake. The road to Moraine Lake was closed the last time I was here, so this was my first time visiting. The waters of Moraine seem almost even more turquoise than Louise, especially when the sun hits the water:



After a full morning of shooting, I decided it was time to head east again. I had an appointment in Canmore; roughly halfway between, well, not far from that rest stop, and I wanted to be there about noon.

To end the day, I ended up rolling back into Calgary, past Olympic Park, at around 6:30pm. The rest of the evening was spent looking at all the photos that I consider myself lucky to have capture.

The trip back to San Diegovwas uneventful, and it made me wonder why all the "travel drama" always seems to be on the way there, and never on the way home.

Maybe that's because, no matter how bad it gets, on the way back, you're still going home...

"Oh, This Changes Everything"...

I wish I had more photos for this entry; I really do. Unfortunately, I don't. I just have a couple for the end.

So, my tale of woe:

On Monday, May 19, I was to fly to Kelowna BC to meet my buddy and guitarist Marc Seal to do some shows in British Columbia. It seemed simple enough; some quick flights and we're there.

Oh, but such was not the case.

We met up in Seattle, where Marc had changed his flight from there to the same as mine. All seemed well. We'd get there at the same time, thereby alleviating the need for me to go back to the airport in Kelowna to pick him up. It was the perfect plan.

I think it was John Steinbeck who said something about "The best laid plans...", but I digress.

We were mortified when the guy at the counter announced that our flight out of Seattle was not delayed (because that wouldn't have inconvenienced us enough), but cancelled, due to radar failure in Kelowna. They didn't know when repairs would be made, so they started the wholesale cancellation of flights in and out of Kelowna.

Now, ordinarily, I wouldn't panic. But we had to be in Kelowna Tuesday afternoon. The only flight they could guarantee us a seat on was the one which departed Seattle at 4:40pm on Tuesday. This would not do. It was a painful realization to arrive at, but it was inevitable and unavoidable: We would have to drive.

Now, the problem with driving is that I would be renting the car in Seattle, but wouldn't be bringing it back. Ergo, I needed to find a car that they didn't want coming back to Seattle. I finally found a BC-tagged mini-van ('cause that's how I roll) at the Avis counter. We loaded our luggage and hit the road at around 5:00pm on Monday.

Marc was kinda' bummin'. Had he not changed his original flight to mine, he may well have been able to fly out that evening. But, he did change his flight, so into the mini-van he went. Marc was sad.

Well, only until he turned on the radio.

Seems that some car rental companies are now equipping their vehicles with satellite radio as a standard option. Marc was happy. Keep the talent happy. He gleefully tuned both up and down, finding all kinds of things you'd never find on your standard FM dial.

"Oh", exclaimed Marc, "This changes everything".

We settled on a comedy channel which, quite frankly, almost had me driving off the road a number of times from laughing so hard. It kept us laughing right up until we hit the Canadian border.

I've crossed the US/Mexico border more times than I can count, but have only driven across the US/Canadian border twice. Each time, it was painless and fast. Not so this time. No, not so this time at all. You see, we were driving into Canada on the Canadian holiday "Victoria Day". This was the last day of their long weekend. As a result, we sat in a long line of traffic, at Peace Arch Park, waiting to cross. Marc was getting a bit perturbed at those who saw fit to drive around traffic and get back into line closer to the border.

"I have a system of justness", said Marc. "And this is unjust".

After about an hour and a half, we made it across the border, and began making our way towards Kelowna at, finally, a decent speed.

Before Monday night, if I was going to offer advice to someone about anything, it might be along the lines of "Never eat anything bigger than your head". After Monday night, though, it would likely be "Don't drive from Seattle to Kelowna in a mini-van, along unfamiliar roads, at night, in the rain". While we suffered no catastrophic delays, it was a long drive, and I was making it after having only two and a half hours sleep the night before. Thankfully, an unrequited recipe for disaster.

We finally arrived in Kelowna around 1:00am. All things considered, things went well. We'd stopped for a bite to eat which added to the time, but we were in relatively good shape when we got to our hotel in Kelowna.

Our stay in Kelowna was uneventful overall; we had a good show and met up with some members of the Canadian band Cold Driven. These guys are some hard-touring musicians who've put everything they have into what they're doing. I wish them luck!

On Wednesday, we made the drive from Kelowna down to Vancouver. This is usually a pretty boring drive; some nice scenery, but little else. This time, though, as we hit the summit of the Coquihalla Highway, it started to snow.

A lot.

Now, bear in mind that this is the latter half of May. The very idea of snow falling in May is alien to someone from southern California. But, hey, there it was. Marc was shooting video and photos, completely amazed at what he was seeing. The snow was sticking to the trees but, thankfully, not to the road. My "drivin' in the snow" chops ain't exactly what they used to be.

We arrived at our hotel in Vancouver around 2:30 on Wednesday afternoon. We settled in, and then made our way over to the venue for the show. After the show, I had what was probably the best Filet Mignon I've ever had at The Granville Room. After dinner and a few local brews, we made our way back to our hotel.

Okay, now we start getting to the point where I have photos.

Thursday morning, we had to catch the ferry from Vancouver to Victoria BC. I've made this crossing many times, and the weather can be sketchy. This time, though, it was nice enough.

Early on, we didn't think we were going to make the 11:00am ferry. We were still having breakfast at our hotel at 10:00am. The drive to the terminal is a good 25 minutes, and Tue ferries tend to be a bit crowded. Maybe, given the wait we had at the Canadian border on Monday evening, the Travel Gods opted to smile upon us. We made the ferry with about ten minutes to spare.

We left the Tsawwassen Ferry Terminal at 11:00am sharp, beginning our trek to Victoria BC:




Ferries run almost non-stop in both directions, and it's not unusual to pass ferries going to or from Vancouver, Victoria, Nanaimo, or any one of the many smaller islands along the way:




We had clouds, but no rain, which made for an enjoyable trip:




The scenery during this crossing is pretty amazing. Houses are built along cliffs, and there's an endless array of small craft navigating the waterways:




Once in Victoria (which is one of my favorite cities in the world, by the way), we found our way to the Garrick's Head Pub. I first visited this pub back in 1982 while in the Navy. I make it a point, now, to visit for lunch or supper every time I visit Victoria. The pub's been here, under the same name, since 1867. They've got a great staff, great pub fare (including a burger that'll be among the best you've ever had), and great locally brewed ales.

On Friday, May 23, we had the entire day ahead of us, as our flight wasn't scheduled to leave Victoria until 5:50pm. Accordingly, we decided to do some "touristy" stuff while we had some time.

Our first stop was Butchart Gardens. If you're into flowers, this is the place for you. It was first created in 1904, and has been continually added to. The park is 55 acres, and encompasses a mind-numbing selection of flowers and other fauna. One of the most distinct features of the park is the Sunken Garden:




The Butchart Gardens are a photographer's dream. Every time I turned around, I found something else that I just had to shoot. Some examples:








What we didn't expect to find was an outlet to a previously unknown to us area called Butchart Cove. It offered some very nice photo-ops, as well:








After Butchart Gardens, we made our way down to Victoria and over to Craigdarroch Castle. Craigdarroch, completed in 1890, is a 39-room castle that, now, is nestled in a residential community. Three and four bedroom homes surround this 4-1/2 story stone mountain of a home:




Marc Seal puts the "roch" in "Criagdarroch":




Your truly on the steps of Craigdarroch Castle:




After visiting Craigdarroch, we went down to the Inner Harbor of Victoria for some lunch before heading out to the airport to wrap up this trip. We finally got out of Victoria on Friday night, after more flight delays and more than a bit or anxiety. After a week on the road, both Marc and I were more than ready to get home...

Toronto, Etal...

April brought me to Toronto, Ontario.

I normally don't bring a camera to Toronto, simply because I rarely have a lot of time to go shooting when I'm there. It's a lot to carry from San Diego when I accept the reality that I probably won't use it.

But, I had it with me this week, so use it I did.

Toronto has a pretty good subway system; one I've never used before. I decided to go ahead and ride it, in the hopes that I might get some shots worth keeping. Tried to get a bit "artsy" on these:







Now, subways can be two things: They can be the conduit through which thousands travel every day to their jobs, shopping; what have you. They can also be a bit of a freak show:





I tried to figure out exactly what that girl's story was but, alas, I failed. Miserably. I simply can't reason why someone would not only do that, but why someone would do that and then go out in public.

Gotta' love the subway.

So, I'm in Toronto but, this time, I was not alone. Guitarist extraordinaire Marc Seal was with me for this week. Marc is the host of his own television show, call "The Ultimate Guitar Show". The guy is a monster player, and one Helluva' nice guy.

Anyway, Marc wanted to go to Niagara Falls, so away we went on Thursday. If you've never been there, it's pretty amazing. We were on the Canadian side which, evidently, offers a far better view of the falls than the American side.

To wit:









We had originally planned to go on Wednesday. Crossing the hotel lobby after breakfast, though, we looked outside to see that it was absolutely pouring outside. Hardly a good day for sightseeing. So, we waited a day, and we're glad we did. The weather was absolutely glorious. Mark was pleased:



Marc flew back to southern California on Friday, and I followed on Saturday. We've got another trip planned to British Columbia in May, and I always take my camera to British Columbia.

Stay tuned...

Upon leaving Sussex, I made the drive to Fredericton NB, and then on to St. John NB. In and of itself, it was an uneventful drive, through small towns and past farms of various sizes. It was after I left St. John that the camera got some action.

One thing to know about Canada is that there's often a lot of water to contend with. If you're around Vancouver or in Atlantic Canada, at some point, you're going to have to deal with a large expanse of open sea.

Last September, my good friend Zach Arntz and I made the drive from St. John to Halifax. The weather could've been better, and it took us about seven hours. With the two of us taking our turns driving, it sucked the life out of both of us. As I was traveling alone this trip, I wanted to avoid that drive at all costs.

Enter the Princess of Acadia.

The Princess of Acadia is the ferry that makes the run from St. John NB to Digby, NS. The trip is about three hours long, and offers the opportunity to relax and rejuvenate. My rejuvenation came in the form of a two hour nap, but I did manage to capture some images.

Atlantic Canada, in March, is covered with snow. By my southern California standards, a look back to St. John from the ferry shows an almost inhospitable climate:



I'm not entirely sure what the temperature was, but it was hovering in the negative single digits. It was cold.



The ferry itself is quite a feat of engineering. It can carry over 100 vehicles which range in size from a sub-compact to a tractor trailer. Not sure of the specs; length, draft, etc, but it's pretty impressive.

Now, the morning I was on board, I couldn't help thinking about a "worst case scenario". Here we are, on a three hour trip across the Bay Of Fundy, in the middle of March; what if something went wrong? This water was cold, after all, and ending up in the drink would likely mean one wouldn't survive very long.

Again, unhospitable.

The ferry was outfitted with a number of lifeboats, however, should the need ever arise. Bright white boats against a deep blue sky. How could I resist?





Nice to know those boats were there if necessary. Did I mention that the water was cold?



For most of the crossing, there was nothing much to see, hence the aforementioned two hour nap. That changed as we closed in on Digby NS, however. People build their houses about as close to the coast as you can get. It must be absolutely gorgeous during the summer months, but that word "inhospitable" keeps creeping back into my mind when I see a scene like this:



By the end of the trip, I found myself mildly amazed at the fact that there are people who make this trip, everyday, back and forth. I don't know that I could do that. I might be okay during the summer but, in the winter?

I think I might rather make that drive after all. That said, though, the views aren't quite as spectacular from a car as they would be from the ferry...

Road Trip...

As much as I might like reality to be otherwise, I don't make my living with photography. I work for Taylor Guitars, as the Regional Sales Manager for Canada. The obvious upside, of course, is that I get to travel to Canada.

Now, when people think of Canada, they tend to think of Vancouver, Montreal, Toronto, and Edmonton. Why? Well, they've all got hockey teams. Beyond that, though, people who aren't Canadian tend to not know a great deal about Canada.

So, the nice part of my job is the opportunity to travel, on occasion, to those areas where many will never go. Such was the opportunity this week, as my travels take me to Atlantic Canada, specifically the provinces of Nova Scotia, Prince Edward Island (PEI), and New Brunswick.

Of course, being March, it's cold. It's really cold. One night on PEI, it was fifteen degrees below zero. Of course that's celsius but, be honest, does it really matter? Living in San Diego, anything approaching such a temperature is unheard of.

I didn't let that deter me, though. This part of the country is so gorgeous, it deserves to be photographed at every opportunity.

My travels started in Halifax, Nova Scotia this past Saturday. It was cold, and there was plenty of snow on the ground to greet me. Rental car, hotel, and I'm in for the night.

When I awoke Sunday morning, I looked out the window to gauge what the weather was like. Having been here before, and having spent time photographing the historic waterfront, I'd forgotten that Halifax has a certain amount of industry:



Not what you might expect to see in a "seafaring port", but, there it is.

On Monday, I had to make the drive from Halifax out to PEI. It's too cold for the ferries to run, so driving is the only option.

When driving to PEI, you cross the Confederation Bridge. This bridge is 8.6 miles long. During the warmer months, the Northumberland Strait waves beneath it. This time of year, though, there's just not much waving going on. It's frozen almost from one side or the other, and it's quite an impressive sight:



That photo was taken as I drove across the bridge. The obvious caveat here is that you really shouldn't be taking pictures while you're driving.

As I said before, it gets cold here. On PEI, it was well below any temperature than a human should have to endure. Even still, I felt the urge to go out shooting. I have to be honest, that urge didn't last too long. My jeans were freezing it was so cold.

I did, however, find out what happens when all the Island seafarers pull their boats from the water for the winter. Looking almost like a "boat graveyard", they go up on stocks to wait for the ice to thaw in (most likely) late spring:



Honest to God, it was just too cold to walk around and take photos. Boat graveyards is what you get.

Tuesday, though, was a bit nicer. The sun was high and the driving was good. It was also a pretty good day for taking some pictures.

Now, one of the things I find cool about Canada are the old farm out-building that invariably line the roads of every small Canadian town I've ever been in. It doesn't matter if I'm driving through British Columbia, Ontario, or somewhere way out east here, they're right there, just waiting for someone to pay attention to them:



Of course, you can't have a farm out-building if you don't have a farm. These, too, are plentiful throughout the provinces. Something I've noticed on this trip; perhaps just because they're contrasted with the snow on the ground, ar some of the vivid colors of various parts of various buildings on various farms. An example:



And, sometimes, they're not very vivid at all:



Now, things like that you can see from, more often than not, the main road you're traveling on. But there are other, even more unusual structures, that you'll only find once you've gotten off the beaten trail.

On Wednesday, I was leaving Sussex, NB, after a night in the worst hotel in all of Canada. The All Seasons Inn is to be avoided at all costs. Paper-thin carpeting, a desk the size of a foot locker, and the absolute worst internet service I've ever encoutered.

BUT, it's in a really cool, small town. Sussex has somewhere in the neighborhood of 14 covered bridges. I know Americans who've lived their entire lives without seeing a covered bridge, and here are over a dozen of them in a ten square mile size area. Some are for foot passage only, and some are for vehicle traffic, but they're all very cool:





Clearly, I've gone on far longer than I anticipated, but I wanted to share some of the cool things you can see out there, provided you get to the road less traveled. There will be more to come; more thoughts and photos, but I think that's good for now.

After all, there's more traveling to do this week...

Buddy Miles..

As a concert photographer, sometimes you get the chance to shoot a legend. I've had a couple of those chances. You get the chance to shoot someone who, maybe as a kid, you looked at as a "rock star". I've had a few of these opportunities.

In September of last year, I was fortunate to shoot "Love In", which was held in San Diego. One of the performers was Buddy Miles. Buddy had formed Electric Flag with Mike Bloomfield, and Band of Gypsys with Jimi Hendrix.

He was a big man, but was frail and had been in failing health. Still, when he sang, he sang with a voice that most would sell their soul to have.

Buddy passed away this past Tuesday, at his home in Texas. I consider myself privileged and fortunate to have had the opportunity to shoot, what I believe, was his last performance. I ended up with a plethora of great shots of him, and I'll remember, fondly, having the opportunity to sit and talk with him whenever I look at those photos.

RIP, Buddy...

The Photography I Do...

I am, primarily, a concert photographer.

There's something about a photo of a live concert that hits me. Properly done, you can almost hear the music in the photo. That's what makes a great concert photo.

So, how'd I get into it? Well, I used to play in a band in southern California. Nothing fancy; just your garden-variety classic rock cover band. We played a lot, though, so we made some decent money on the side. After about an eight year run, we packed up our guitars for the last time in July of 2005.

Now, while I didn't mind the fact that I wouldn't have to unload the van at four in the morning anymore, the very stark reality was that the money I made from playing music was now gone. I had to wonder: What else do I enjoy doing that I might be able to make a few bucks on the side with?

Well, there was really only one option: Photography.

When I started out, I should've been arrested for littering. I didn't know it at the time, but my photos were horrible; truly, truly horrible. Anyone with an iota of self-respect would've stopped right there. No, but not me. For some reason I'm still unable to put my finger on, I was able to reach the conclusion that this was something I was really, really good at.

No idea how that happened.

Now, three years later, I think I'm pretty good. Comparing what I shoot these days, compared to what I shot three years ago, is an exercise in self-deprecation. It amazes me that, back then, I decided this was the way to go.

I started out with some "guinea pigs"; bands who would let me shoot them, and I would give them photos for the privilege of allowing me to get some much needed practice. I still shoot these guys from time to time; local bands like The Taylor Harvey Band and FM Revolver, and Manganista.

I have, however, moved on to shooting more well known acts, as well. I've seen acts like The Temptations, Styx, Jason Mraz, and Atlanta Rhythm Section through my viewfinder:

So, you can say I've stepped it up a bit. A few days ago, I spoke with Andy Anderson, lead singer of Atlanta Ryhtm Section, and he invited me out later this summer to shoot them, The Steve Miller Band, and Joe Cocker. Of course, there are a lot of details to work out, but it's nice to know that my work, after what's really been only three short years, is being noticed enough to get an invite like that.

I think, though, that you can hit a point of stagnation with anything you do, and photography is no different. Accordingly, I want to diversify. I want to expand the subjects I shoot. And that brings me to what'll happen in June of this year.

A good friend of mine, named Holt Webb, is spending the next two years driving around the country doing a project he's named Vanishing America (be sure to check out the blog link on that page). He's shooting things around this great country of ours that, sadly, could be only a memory in as little as two or three generations.

Well, in late June of this year, the tentative plan is for me to fly to Virginia and spend a week on the road with him on Assateague Island, in Virginia.

This will be a type of shooting which is almost alien to me. Still, though, I think it's something I need to do if I want to break out of the confines that concert photography imposes. It should be both fun and exciting, and I hoe that it's something that will give me a very different perspective on my work as a photographer than I have right now. When I shoot concerts, I know what I'm doing, and I know I'll come away with good results; dare I say "professional" results. When I try my hand at wildlife and landscape type shooting, though, I tend to come away with, well, snapshots.

I don't have a great deal of interest in taking snapshots.

So this summer will provide me the opportunity to shoot alongside someone who, frankly, has an eye that not too many people have. I hate the word, really, but Holt truly is an "artist". His work, be it of fog-bound fishing boats sitting pierside or wild horses, is amazing, and I consider it a great privilege that he's invited me out for a week.

Next year, if things go well this year, we're headed to Alaska.

I will always do concert photography; it really is what I'm best at. But I've never wanted to be a one-trick pony. I figure if I can't learn and grow as a photographer, then there probably isn't much reason to keep going.

And I definitely want to keep going...